We Fell Asleep To The Gentle Sunrays Shining Through The Window

Up early. 8am.
We go to the body corporate meeting, at 9.30am. The real estate agent running the show asks me what unit.
“One.”
“Oh.” He points to Sam. “You together?”
What, should we have bought our pugs? “Yes.”
It is held in the common driveways of the units. It is about the beautification of the garden, and, I think, Sam’s objection to the large tree being removed from the front of his place. A few weeks ago we came home to find several large trees had been removed from the garden completely. Sam saw the tree cutter when he returned a few days later and asked him not to cut down the tree in front of his place.
Hence, the emergency, on site gathering.
One chick had a half finished qualification in trees and wanted to remove everything, according to her particular likes and dislikes and start again. Another chick, whose mother once kept the garden immaculately, way back fucking when, just kept saying, “I just want it to look beautiful again, I just want it to look beautiful,” without any suggestions, or a clue, clearly, as to how that may be achieved.

We watched movies and turned into techno boys with our laptops and ipads in use at the same time.
At some stage I worried that I was too boring, as Sam and I were cuddled up on the couch together.
We fell asleep to the gentle sunrays shining through the window. Shane woke us something about wanting a cigarette. Suddenly. “Christian, Christian, Christian?” (Like Sheldon Cooper) Woke me up? From a dead sleep? Even that is a little too self focused for Shane, I thought.
“No I don’t have any.” I did, but they were upstairs and clearly not handy. Otherwise, I would have had to get up and get them.
“See, meth,” I said to Sam.

We talked about going for a long walk. We talked about our expanding waistlines and the need to exercise. We headed to the supermarket, instead, and bought spinach, which we were going to wilt into the pasta sauce to revitalise it.
Not another joint, protests Sam several times through the night.
We head to bed to watch one of the two gay movies we had hired. We start with 200American, and then swap to, Eastside Story, until we decide they are both crap. Cheap. Low productions standards.

Apparently, I fell asleep in it. Sam is a nazi if that happens. I wake to “Switch it off!” The pillows being rearranged into sleeping position, the doona aligned, the remote snatched away and “boof” the room turns to darkness.
“Hah. What? Oh.”